Most writers on the emotions and on human conduct seem to be treating rather of matters outside nature than of natural phenomena following nature's g… - Benedictus de Spinoza

Most of those who have written about the Affects, and men’s way of living, seem to treat, not of natural things, which follow the common laws of nature, but of things that are outside nature. Indeed they seem to conceive man in nature as a dominion within a dominion. For they believe that man disturbs, rather than follows, the order of nature, that he has absolute power over his actions, and that he is determined only by himself.

Most writers on the emotions and on human conduct seem to be treating rather of matters outside nature than of natural phenomena following nature's general laws. They appear to conceive man to be situated in nature as a kingdom within a kingdom: for they believe that he disturbs rather than follows nature's order, that he has absolute control over his actions, and that he is determined solely by himself. They attribute human infirmities and fickleness, not to the power of nature in general, but to some mysterious flaw in the nature of man, which accordingly they bemoan, deride, despise, or, as usually happens, abuse:

Truly, all the lively, the lively men from the school of Kant, became Neospinozists! In other words, they became Spinozists. The Kantians became Spinozists—what happened? Why did the most prominent Kantians—Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, the best philosophical brains Germany has ever produced—become Spinozists? One will try in vain to find an answer to this question in our histories of philosophy, which do not even ask that legitimate and obvious question. And there is no other answer to it than this one: that it could not have been otherwise, since these truly philosophical men necessarily saw and felt how different Benedict Spinoza's stance within philosophy was from that of Kant, who—to say it in my blunt way—had nothing in common with philosophy.

What both men [Yeshu/Jesus and Spinoza] have in common is that they were mistreated by the rabbis of their days. According to the Talmud, Yeshu was rejected by the influential Rabbi Joshua ben Parchia for having made an indecent comment. The rabbi immediately excommunicated him. [...] Spinoza, too, was the victim of over-zealous rabbis – this time, the leaders of the Amsterdam Portuguese Spanish Jewish community. Once they heard his views on God and Torah, instead of drawing him closer and carefully listening to his insights, they threatened him and ultimately excommunicated him resulting in the most famous ban ever issued in Jewish history. It is impossible to know what would have happened to Yeshu and Spinoza had the rabbis taken a more tolerant stand and continued to speak to them. Spinoza might not have written some of his most fierce critiques of the Jewish tradition and might have been more sympathetic to Judaism itself. (It seems that on some occasions Spinoza lost his equilibrium when attacking Judaism.) Similarly, Yeshu's attitude towards Judaism may quite well have been different, and Christianity under the influence of Paul might not have become as anti-Jewish.

It is an amazing thing that our memory best retains images of great philosophers when their lives were coming to an end. Socrates raising the chalice with hemlock to his mouth, Seneca whose veins were opened by a slave (there is a painting of this by Rubens), Descartes roaming cold palace rooms with a foreboding that his role of teacher of the Swedish Queen would be his last, old Kant smelling a grated horseradish before his daily walk (the cane preceding him, sinking deeper and deeper into the sand), Spinoza consumed by tuberculosis and patiently polishing lenses, so weak he is unable to finish his Treatise on the Rainbow.